


قلم قدرتمندتر است

by sunshineandfangs (Avana)



Series: Sea of Stars [36]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19343950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avana/pseuds/sunshineandfangs
Summary: Klarosummer Bingo - "Newsflash - seashell bras give me hives"Writer extraordinaire (or well, she will be) Caroline Forbes is suffer a bit of a writer’s block. When she finally draws out inspiration she draws out a little more than that too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to my tumblr (sunshineandfangs) and eventually my FFN (Shiko-Rae)
> 
> This one gets a bit meta. Also yes, I am going to make all those unfamiliar with the Persian alphabet deal with it as I did because when I tried to get a phonetic translation I failed and just butchered the language.
> 
> The title means “The Pen is Mightier”.

Caroline nibbled on the tip of her pen, struggling to find the words she wanted to say. She didn’t often use pen and paper, only when she was suffering a particularly strong block. Something about the motion, the way dark ink looked on clean paper was soothing and satisfying. Usually, by now  _something_  would have come to her, but today? Nothing.

She groaned, tossing the notebook down beside her as she leaned backward against the seat of the bench. It wasn’t comfortable. The hard wood digging into her spine and shoulder blades, blood rushing to her head as she let it hang.

Grumbling some more to herself, she eventually threw herself up and out of the bench, taking back her notebook as she marched through the park. Nature was good inspiration, or so she’s been told.

* * *

Shoving through the front door, Caroline set her keys down with a clank in their designated dish. All she managed to accomplish was getting a semi-decent workout, her pace increasing from a walk to a mild jog the more frustrated she got. That, and amusing herself by drawing a very fancy calligraphic “t” for the word “the.” SpongeBob was a classic.

Trudging toward her room, she threw herself across her duvet, glowering up at the ceiling as if it had all the answers to her problems. And she glared long enough for her eyes to start to feel strained, solving exactly zero of her problems. Tiredly, she rubbed her palms against them, figuring it was time for a break.

It was just so frustrating. She had all these worlds circling around in her mind. Sometimes she could picture them so vividly it felt like she could step through and taste them. There were characters who seemed to beat against the inside of her skull, their voices and thoughts and feelings so strong.

But the link between her imaginings and reality just didn’t click all the time. She would go to write something, but it just wasn’t quite right. Cross it out, backspace, start again. Stare blankly at a blinking cursor, feeling a scene in her mind and having it escape her as soon as she went to type.

Caroline bit her lip. 

Well, that wasn’t quite the whole truth. 

Closing her eyes, she let herself fall. Down, down, down the rabbit hole of her mind, sinking into the core of her being. She reached out, grasping the strongest pulse she could sense. 

Caroline gasped, eyes shooting open as she lunged for her laptop.

 _“Newsflash - seashell bras give me hives.”_ Poured out onto the page, a vivid image of a young woman danced around in her mind. Red hair, slight waves, green eyes, a smattering of freckles. Her name was Candice, she knew, a bit of a spitfire and sassy, but also kind.

Her friend was Nina. A brunette, her hair curlier and longer, and her personality a bit more abrasive. But they were steadfast friends. Their relationship birthed in childhood, forged in the fires of teenager drama: boys and crushes and sex, rumor mills and social ladders. 

Now, at twenty-six the two of them did odd jobs together as they worked to pay for med and law school respectively. This one probably one of their weirdest.

_“You know that,” Candice scowled._

_“Suck it up, buttercup,” Nina chirped, looking a bit too delighted for Candice’s liking. “The pay check for this one is really, **really**  good. It’s crazy how many people want to pretend mermaids are real. But hey, whatever, money is money.”  
_

Caroline’s fingers flew as she typed, depicting the (mis)adventures of Candice’s and Nina’s latest job. The little pulse she could feel fluttering in her chest grew louder and stronger until two heartbeats seemed to pound inside her.

It was startling when she finally looked up, the sky pitch black outside her window, the clock on her computer helpfully informing her it was now 2:29 AM. She had lost hours pouring herself into her stories. Fleshing out the details of Candice’s and Nina’s relationship. Added in family members and romance. It felt good to release the little slice of life into the world.

Quickly, re-reading what she had written, Caroline debated whether she wanted to continue or not. Build a more intricate world or let it go? Let it go, she finally decided. The heartbeat settled down until it was just her own once more.

* * *

Klaus scowled at his canvas, rather irked that the only paintings he could make lately were distorted smears. Don’t mistake him, he was proud of his abstract work too, just not when it conveyed frustration and a lack of inspiration.

He tossed his brush aside, wiped the paint flecks from his skin. Running an aggravated hand through his curls, he decided to get out of the house.

* * *

The park wasn’t a place he would normally frequent, but desperate times and all that rot. As expected though, as he let his eye drift around the scene before him nothing much caught his attention. There were screaming children, tired parents, enamored couples. The typical things one might expect to see and none of them sparked new passion or anything of the sort.

And then he saw her.

She looked frustrated, not unlike himself really, but there was something about the way her eyes flashed with her ire. The purposeful way she moved as she went from a walk to a run.

Klaus left not long after, carrying his unexpected muse with him.

When he made it back to his apartment, images came to him in a hurry. A passionate gesture with an arm. A cat-like smile, mischievous and playful. Gorgeous flashing eyes, bright with temper.

As soon as he started, he couldn’t stop. The vivacious blonde woman stayed a constant, but others soon came to him. A red-head. A brunette. An unexpected desire to do a study of water and distortion. The shimmer of scales.

It was certainly some of his best work.

* * *

Caroline walked listless down the sidewalk, a heavy smear of concealer under her eyes to disguise their red puffiness. She wasn’t sure how many tears she had cried. Enough that though her heart still felt like it was being crushed, there were none left to shed.

Just a few months ago she had felt on top of the world, new stories seeming to pour out of her by the dozens. An original work ready to be published. And then a week ago she got a phone call.

Her mom was sick. Cancer. Terminal.

She didn’t live far away, and Caroline had dropped everything to go and visit. She still visited everyday, making sure her mom was comfortable, that she was getting the best care available. Yet she felt useless, she was doing everything she could and it seemed to be nothing at all.

And her mom could see it wearing on her, had all but kicked her out and told her to come back when she had a chance to take a breath. 

Well, here she was. Breathing. And not feeling better at all.

She kept walking. Not bothering to scramble for cover when a drizzle built into a downpour. Moved at the same pace and ducked into the next building several feet down.

She blinked. Blinked again. Wondered if stress and grief had made her go crazy.

Apparently, she had stepped into a gallery, and spread across the walls were snapshots of Candice and Nina, exactly as she had pictured them. She even saw would looked like a glimpse of mermaid tails.

Impossible.

* * *

 _What are the odds?_ Klaus thought, incredulous. His muse just stepped into his gallery.

* * *

Caroline’s eyes darted around wildly. If she had been more famous, then maybe she would think someone hacked her manuscript or something. But she wasn’t. Not at all.

Her upcoming book would be her first full length novel, everything else she had published in magazines. Short stories and poetry. An editorial or two when her inspiration was particularly low.

_How could this be?_

Because it wasn’t just a resemblance to her characters. They were identical, down to the pattern of freckles across Candice’s nose.

“We’re technically closed, love.”

Caroline jumped, startled out of her wide-eyed examination of Candice.

“O-oh,” she stuttered, whirling around. “Sorry, the door was open. And it was raining. I-do you know who did these?” She rushed out, desperately needing the answer.

* * *

Klaus was startled by the woman’s apparent mania, her resemblance to the muse he discovered in the park almost nowhere to be seen. He answered her though, perhaps that would lend some clarity to this baffling situation.

“I did.”

He stumbled back when she lunged for him, her thin fingers deceptively strong as she gripped his arms, eyes wide and gleaming. “When? How? What made you think of these images?”

“Bloody hell, woman! They just came to me. I was in the park looking for some inspiration and I got it.” He certainly wasn’t going to mention it came from her now. She seemed unhinged enough already.

* * *

Caroline stumbled back, an absolutely absurd idea bouncing around her brain.

_This is **crazy** , Caroline. Crazy!_

And yet she couldn’t help herself. What could it hurt? 

With almost no conscious thought, her hand reached for her bag, snagging the small notebook she always kept on her. Her movements egged on by half remembered dreams, flashes of figures she thought belonged only in her mind.

She grabbed a pen and started to write. How a distraught blonde named Caroline stumbled into a gallery and discovered paintings of people she had thought she only imagined. How she had an extraordinary idea and started to write. Write out her story. Penning out a future in which a doctor calls as she finished writing. Calling to report a miracle. That after numerous tests checking and double checking, it seems Caroline’s mother’s cancer has gone into remission.

The pen dropped from her nerveless hands. Her heart pounding in her throat, her breath halted as seconds stretched like hours.

And just as she was about to ridicule herself for her insanity, her cell phone rang.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini-sequel from <https://sunshineandfangs.tumblr.com/> for the next bit of this story.
> 
> Contains smut!

Caroline was still in awed shock that her bat shit insane idea actually worked. And yet here she stood in front of the gallery that changed everything, several weeks after her last visit and significantly happier with her mother in full remission. 

She could do without the feelings of awkward embarrassment though, knowing she had acted like a complete lunatic. Perhaps it was idiotic of her to come back and try to explain herself, well aware of just how insane her claims would sound. And even if he did believe her, what then?

Like yes, she tested her abilities extensively of course, she’s not an idiot! Some fucked up secret government experimentation or something wouldn’t be possible when she could just  _literally_  overwrite it. And thinking words in her head, even in complete sentences, wasn’t enough. She did have to write/type something so it wasn’t uncontrolled. (Thank god!)

But… Well it still all seemed so crazy. Even to her! The one living with the proof of everything! God, what was she doing? This was stupid, wasn’t it? Yeah, she should just go home and-

“You are aware you’re blocking the entrance?”

Caroline jumped and whirled around, frantic apologies dying on her lips as she processed just who was behind her. Yup, her luck was just  _fantastic_. It was him. The person she both wanted to explain things to and avoid, never to be seen by him ever again ever.

Alas…

She tried to withhold her cringe, offering a smile that she had a feeling was more of a grimace.

“Um, could we talk? I know that you probably think I’m some sort of crazy person, and I’m so sorry that the last time I was here I all but had a meltdown-” She sucked in a breath, aware that she was starting to ramble and it definitely wasn’t helping her case. Exhaling, she started again, slower this time. “Right, sorry I realize that probably doesn’t lend credence to the idea that I’m not crazy. But yes, I would like the chance to explain. I totally understand if you’re not comfortable with that so just say the word and I’ll go.”

She felt a bit steadier as she met his gaze, the burning red blush and twitchy cringes gone from her face.

* * *

Klaus wasn’t sure why he said yes. By all rights he should throw the girl out, her behavior having been downright manic the last time he saw her. Perhaps it was because he still remembered the feeling he got when he first saw her, as if she was a true Muse out of legend. Regardless of reason, he did say yes, which was how he found himself sitting across from her in the gallery office, gaping at her rather unattractively.

With extreme effort, he managed to smooth his expression. “I certainly hope you have more proof then just this wild story.”

* * *

She considered it a win that Klaus was still talking to her, asking for proof rather than just kicking her out on the spot. Or worse.

“Well, I would be willing to write something out for you, something that you choose, so you can see if it happens. Then it just depends on how likely you are to chalk it up to coincidence.”

The man’s eyebrows were nearly in his hairline, but he seemed surprisingly willing to go along with it.

“…Alright then, sweetheart, write…”

— SMUT Time Skip —

**Minor bondage and orgasm denial, some spanking**

Caroline grinned as she offered Klaus her wrists, teasing him as he wrapped the black silk ties around them.

“We really save a fortune on our sex life, don’t we?”

He raised an eyebrow expression wry. “Quite. Although I don’t recall when unbreakable silk ties that double as orgasm control hit the market.”

She giggled, well aware it was true. Not only did they have a supernaturally fantastic collection of sex toys and gear, but also downright impossible pieces like the aforementioned silk ties. Unbreakable and inescapable except by safe word (said by either her or Klaus) that also prevent orgasm while in contact with a person’s skin.

Caroline was snapped out of her thoughts as Klaus tugged her to him, eliciting a slight moan from her as her bare nipples rubbed against the firm planes of his chest.

He nuzzled into her neck as he purred, “That’s more like it, love. For as delightful as I find your laughter, it’s not the sound I wish to hear from you right now.”

Klaus slowly walked her backward, brushing his hand teasingly against her thigh and ass, distracting her enough that she lost track of their location. He smirked when he tumbled her onto the bed, looping the loose fabric around the temporary hook in their headboard.

“Now that I have you at my mercy, whatever shall I do?”

Caroline rolled her eyes, well aware that he already knew  _exactly_ what he wanted to do.

She yelped when he suddenly pinched her nipple. “ _Tsk tsk_ , love. Only bad girls are so rude, and bad girls don’t get to come.”

“Klaus,” she groaned, arching up and trying to press her breast against his hand, but he just  _tsk_ -ed at her again.

“You really don’t learn do you?” He asked, releasing her nipple and swiftly flipping her over, the ties twisting easily. “Not only do bad girls not get to come, they also get punished.”

Caroline jolted when his hand came down on her ass, the sting as sharp as the sound. She subtly pressed back against his palm as he rubbed her heated skin.

_Crack_

Another slap came down on the other cheek. And he didn’t let up, giving her eight more as she tried to not squirm in her bonds, feeling heat in more than just her ass.

“Hm, this is a lovely color on you, sweetheart, but…” She moaned as he swiped a finger through her cleft, catching the obvious slick of her arousal. “Not much of a punishment, now is it?”

“Nooo,” she sighed out.

He flipped her again and she peered up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, licking her lips when they landed on his erect cock.

Klaus chuckled down at her. “Bad girls certainly don’t get to have my cock.”

Caroline fluttered her lashes at him, moving her lips into a slight pout. “Please, Klaus? I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I promise I can make it up to you.”

He bent over her, caressing her cheek and pulling at her bottom lip with his thumb. “Is that so, love? I’m afraid words alone mean nothing, but if you want to make it up to me…”

She nodded eagerly, her core clenching around nothing as a wicked expression crossed face.  _What was he planning?_

“If you are truly sorry, then there are more useful things your mouth can be doing than offering empty promises.”

Her eyes widened as she internally cursed his deviousness. Rather than crawling closer to the headboard, Klaus turned around, maneuvering until she could easily take his cock in her mouth while his breath tickled her clit.

 _Fuck_.

Her stomach twitched as Klaus’ hands ran slowly down her thighs, spreading them wider as his nose just barely brushed against her sensitive flesh. The sensation far more a tease than real stimulation.

“Well, sweetheart? Take me in your mouth”

He was really too good at distracting her, though Caroline was happy to obey this order. She parted her lips to take the head between them, giving a little flick of her tongue against his slit, tasting the salt of his pre-cum.

She whimpered around him as he mimicked her, wet heat swiping once through her folds. Tilting her head, she took him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked. Her efforts reward when Klaus did the same to her clit. 

Pleasing her partner while being pleasured by him was rapidly tightening the coil in her belly. Chasing the sensation, Caroline put more effort into it, varying her suction, pulling back to swirl her tongue around the tip, delicately scraping her teeth against raised veins.

Her moans vibrated down his length as his own skilled tongue teased her, his attention switching between her clit and her folds. Sometimes delightful warm suction and other times wet heat lapping at her dripping arousal.

She felt him tense above her, heard his warning, and took him even deeper. Swallowing around him. Once. Twice. The third time accompanied by a groan of her name as he released his seed down her throat.

He slipped from her mouth as he re-positioned them, her own core aching with her release out of reach. 

“Good girl, Caroline,” he muttered, his lips shiny from his efforts. “Good girls get rewards,” he continued before pressing a dominating kiss to her mouth. They each tasted themselves and each other as their tongues dueled, a hotter thought than it had the right to be. Especially as she  _still_  hadn’t come.

As if reading her mind, Klaus pulled back slowly, his eyes dark, pupil swallowing all but a thin ring of blue. “I had more plans for you, my love, but I’m afraid I’ve gotten impatient.”

Her legs spread in anticipation as she felt the hard press of him against her folds. He teased her a little, nudging at her clit and sending sparks up her spine, gliding through the slick of her folds, inner walls clenching in desire.

“Klaus, please,” she begged.

“Tell me what you want, Caroline,” he demanded, pressing against her entrance, refusing to penetrate her, no matter how she writhed under him.

“You!” She cried out in frustration. “I want your cock inside me! I want you to fuck me into this mattress until all I can remember is your name! KlaUS!”

Her cry of his name became a shout as he plunged into her in one smooth stroke, her arousal easily accommodating him. The stretch felt delicious and she clamped around him, wanting to feel every inch of his cock inside her.

“That’s it, love,” he cooed, before he set a brutal pace, giving her exactly what she had asked for. Each thrust shook the bed and rattled her teeth, his cock slamming with unerring accuracy against all the most sensitive places inside her. She clenched down around him, loving the friction, and she hitched her legs up to wrap them around him, trying to keep him buried within her.

“More! Harder! Klaus!”

His pubic bone impacted her clit as he obeyed her, his hand slithering up her sides to caress her breasts. She threw her head back as his mouth bit and sucked at her nipple, heat burning through her core, the slick slaps sounding obscene and still the ties kept her suspended on the precipice. 

Caroline thought she heard something but her senses deserted her as she shrieked, vision going white. Her suddenly free hands dug into his shoulders as she spasmed around him. Spine arching as she pressed up against him, trying to get even closer as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

“Klaaauusssss!”

Heat pooled within her, his own release that she hadn’t processed in her ecstasy. Slowly she came back down, the aftershocks fading. Her tense form unclenched as she slumped boneless into the sheets, panting and dazed.

“God, I think that was the best orgasm I ever had,” she mumbled. Easily rolling as Klaus pulled her into his arms, both settling on their sides, while he slipped out of her. She pressed a kiss to his neck, eyelids feeling heavy. “Give me a few moments, I totally want a turn…”

Her words trailed off as she passed out. (Though she got her demanded turn in the morning.)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did cheat and wrote about writing. I also liked this story’s concept more than I ended up liking the execution :/. It’s definitely a weird one though.
> 
> Also, why the use of Persian? “The Pen is Mightier” is obviously derived from the saying the pen is mightier than the sword. Unfortunately, an Englishmen first said that so in my quest to make a non-English title I did some mental somersaults. Basically I took the idea that writer’s are the “gods” of their own worlds (which Caroline makes even more literal here). And one of the first monotheistic religions known to us is Zoroastrianism which originated from Persia. And that concludes today’s peek into the weird way my mind works.


End file.
